


Pain and Probable Death

by izazaa (crazyground)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyground/pseuds/izazaa
Summary: Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev finally have their long awaited talk the only way they know how - whilst solving crime, and dodging danger. Also Nureyev has a fake identity because of course he does.





	Pain and Probable Death

**Author's Note:**

> bless [lyeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyeon/) or this would never have been posted, and for that magnificent title. a few notes: sinseh is like a tcm (traditional chinese medicine) practitioner, and i wrote this imagining them like [this](http://izazaa.tumblr.com/post/159866157651/) (it has no actual bearing on the fic but look theres my tumblr pls.. talk to me abt them...)

The case had started as a simple retrieval – the client, a nice old sinseh named Cho, hired him to pick up her daughter, Evelyn – so naturally it all turns to shit. Her daughter had been detained unlawfully in a smaller prison in Old Town, so Juno had to hint at his knowing Khan to get the paperwork moving. And then the girl had turned out to be a sickly, skittish thing, who had eaten strips of her prison uniform, then snatched her release papers from Juno and stuffed those in her mouth too.

They're walking out through a windowless hallway, when there is a draft of wind from the exit, and upon that wind, the scent of cologne. It stops him in his tracks. Evelyn continues off without him, but Juno cannot move. His skin prickles at the hint of spices, and there's a familiar wad of guilt and fear and _want_ that builds up in his throat, choking him, but surely it couldn't be him.

And then Juno hears little snatches of a familiar voice, speaking in an unfamiliar accent. No doubt he's assumed another one of his false skins. This time, his voice is pitched low and gentle. Finding his feet, he near trips down the hallway in his rush. The light grows brighter as he leaves the dark innards of the prison, and – there he is.

Juno freezes. Opens his mouth, does a decent impression of a fish out of water. He can't even call out Nureyev's name, not only because he doesn't deserve to, but because Nureyev is clearly someone else right now, and the way he holds himself is all wrong. The curve of his spine is less confident. His hair curls around his ears endearingly, instead of its usual sultry slick back. And he's wearing a trench coat, reminiscent of Juno's, except much better fitted, and much less stained. All Juno can manage is, " _You_." He breathes it like a prayer, or a curse, it could go either way.

Apparently Nureyev doesn't know either. He stops, mid sentence in his conversation with Evelyn Cho, who takes the chance to slip around him and out of the entrance. Startled, both Juno and Nureyev make to chase her but the receptionist interrupts.

"What's this?" He regards them suspiciously. "Do all you PIs know each other?"

"Uhhhh," says Juno, who in knowing Nureyev has found out he is very bad at bluffing on the fly. Also, the grateful wail of his client reuniting with her daughter outside is rather distracting. Nureyev, even more so. "No. Not a clue who he is. Can I get my things back? I need to go."

As the receptionist prickles with irritation, Nureyev watches Evelyn leave with a sigh. Instead of chasing her, he leans an elbow on the counter, and smiles at the receptionist. It's a different sort of smile, no teeth, mellow. His eyes flick to the receptionist's name tag. "Ah, forgive us, _Benson_. Detective Steel and I are competitors, you see, so there is a little bit of bad blood between us."

"Huh." Distracted by Nureyev's smile, he slides out Juno's blaster and badge from the drawer, and pushes them to Juno without looking. "That why you both wanted to speak to the same girl?"

Juno looks up from tucking his blaster back into its holster. "What business do you have with Evelyn?"

"That same as you, I'd expect." And then he curls his fingers around Juno's forearm. The weight and warmth of them steals away any protest Juno had. "But let's not trouble dear Benson here with our petty arguments, hmm? Officer, I'll take him out of your hands. It was pleasant meeting someone so competent at his job, I do hope you have a lovely day."

Benson is flushed to his collar as they leave, but they do leave peacefully.

 

* * *

 

In the parking lot, Juno carefully but pointedly pulls his arm out of Nureyev's grip. That heat from Nureyev's hand has travelled through Juno's arm to his chest, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He ends up blurting out, "Are all your fake identities philanderers? Because that certainly wasn't Rex Glass, I'd have recognised him –"

"Had Rex Glass made that much of an impact on you? Pity I've retired him then," Nureyev grouses, flexing his fingers absently as he looked off at his car, eager to leave. "Pity for me too, the Dark Matters agent was rather useful. And he was rather a favourite of mine."

He doesn't put any blame into his words, but Nureyev never had to _try_ to make Juno… feel things. This time, it is guilt. Juno tries to change the topic. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, don't worry, Juno, I'm here on official business."

"As a master thief? What has a sickly girl like Evelyn Cho for you to steal?"

"Nothing, it would seem. Well, it was… nice seeing you, Juno Steel. But I really do have go. Leads to chase, things to steal, you know how it is." Then he spins on his heel, and walks away.

It is a strange and awful sight that Juno has to turn away. Rex Glass had never walked away from him, only removed by the police he had called. Duke Rose had jumped down trash chutes and out of cars, then stepped between him and Valentia's rifle, and hadn't actually ever left Dahlia Rose. And Peter Nureyev… he wasn't the one to walk away, was he?

Juno feels sick to his stomach. But it isn't like he has any right to stop him, doesn't have the answers to the questions Nureyev is sure to ask. He hasn't any right to do anything except walk back to his car, but it does take him several minutes before he does.

 

* * *

 

 

His car is not where he parked it. The client is gone too, as is her daughter. Just an empty rectangle of asphalt and furious cursing on Juno's part. Of course. Of course this would happen to him. He whips out his comm, jabs at it viciously.

When she picks up, Juno says carefully through clenched teeth, " _Mdm Cho_ . If you remember, we came in the same car. _My car_. I'd really appreciate it, deeply, if we could leave in the same car."

"Oh Detective Steel! I'm so terribly sorry, but did you see the state of my poor Evelyn? Oh she's just about to collapse! I just have to get her home as fast as possible! I'll leave the car outside your agency, and of course, I've already transferred the money to your agency."

It doesn't sound like he's getting a ride back, so Juno is back to jabbing viciously at his comm.

"Rita! Check the accounts, did the client pay up?"

"Already? Hold on let me… Wow! Ye she did, Mista Steel, that's a lotta zeroes for an hour's work, boss, you did good –"

"Yea, fine, great," which was why he was walking his sad ass across town. Sure. Briefly he considers telling her to come fetch him but, no, by the time she waited for the car to be returned, or asked Fran (who Juno is beginning to suspect didn't exist) to loan her her car, he'd be halfway to the office already. Once he's out of this shit neighbourhood, he might even catch a cab, whose driver won't even try to rob him outside of the exorbitant fare.

After pocketing his comms, he looks up to, of course, such is his luck, two thugs advancing menacingly upon him, because such is his life. Each of their six arms rippling with muscles, pale green skin covered in tatts and and grease. "Hey, hey, Captain Pirate, what's this we hear about you gettin' paid? Got some treasure on you?"

"C'mon boys, don't you know the real treasure is friendship?" Juno pushes aside the flap of his trench coat to reveal his blaster. He could probably hit them this close, right? And if he couldn't, they didn't have to know. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. "So let's all play nice now."

"Yea, sure." The taller one sneers as he pulls out a switchblade, and the shorter one – has a blaster of his own, ah. Perhaps it would come to that. "Let's play real nice."

Juno tenses, fingers tightening around his blaster, when – a blaster bolt flies between them, and knocks the switchblade out of the thug's hand. It knocks a few fingers off his hand too, and he yowls. The shorter spins towards the car that had pulled up next to them – and stares down the barrel of a blaster.

"Sounds fun. Mind if I join you boys?"

Nureyev is in the driver seat because of course he is. The grin splitting his face, feral, has the two thugs scampering down the road.

"... Thanks for that." A pause. Juno doesn't know what else to say, so he nods curtly and then begins to walk again.

"Hmm? No quip about how you could've handled it without me?" The car follows along at snail's pace to keep up with him."What happened to your car?"

"It drove off without me."

"How… unfortunate." When Juno refuses to say anything else, Nureyev sighs. "Get in, Juno. I'll give you a lift to your office."

"It's _fine_. I'll walk."

"Your office is across the city. You literally almost got mugged. This is an awful neighbourhood. Even its alleyways have alleyways."

"I'll be _fine_."

"Oh, but I insist."

Juno narrows his eyes at him.

Nureyev narrows his back, which Juno feels is entirely unfair because while he knows he looks like a petulant, overgrown brat, Nureyev looks… sultry. And just a wee bit hurt, which hurts Juno in turn. Nureyev adds, exasperated, "It's not a trick, if that's what you're assuming. I'd just prefer you not end up dead in an alley somewhere. Is that too much to ask for?"

Juno Steel clenches his teeth and steels himself. "You can't talk me into this, Nureyev."

 

* * *

 

Juno slumps further into the car seat, sulking at his reflection in the window. It's only a half hour ride. Juno can deal with a half hour ride in this car… that smelt of his cologne even over the stench of chemical cleaners and overbearing perfume that all rental cars have. And Nureyev, next to him, hands on the steering wheel, wrists peeking out from under his jacket, those slender wrists that Juno's hands could wrap around entirely, and he had, Nureyev had let him, and they'd –

"Juno?"

Startled from his reverie, Juno looks up to find Nureyev looking at him funny. "You were staring at the steering wheel rather hard, I do hope you're not hoping to hijack this car from me? No? We're not going to tussle for the… No, I suppose not." Nureyev pauses, weighing his next question. "Are you feeling alright?"

"What? I – yea, of course, I'm feeling just peachy." To distract him, Juno asks, "So. Why _are_ you back in Hyperion City?"

"Ah. Nothing for you to worry about. I've been hired to steal a ring."

Juno raises an eyebrow. "A ring? Just a ring? A normal, non-death-bringing ring?"

"Hah! Of course not, that would be dull. The Ricininae Ring; Its centre stone is one-of-a-kind, a gem of crystalised poison, and a very potent one, made from the sap of a rare plant from Venus. And of course, the antidote is even rarer."

Ah, potentially fatal danger, an old friend. Juno relaxes marginally in his seat. "Is this that weird thing where rich people throw money at dangerous things for excitement?"

Nureyev smiles. "Excellent guess! It was commissioned a century ago by a duchess for her lover, who was a bit of a Lothario, to keep him in line. It… didn't quite stop him from having affairs, but since whoever he slept with died soon after, it did stop her from jealousy."

"He sounds like a chump."

Nureyev shrugs easily. "She forgot about him during a business trip, and he died before she returned. A rather matched pair. The ring was to be auctioned off tonight, and I'd planned to steal it then," Nureyev's mouth twists, "but someone beat me to it."

"And you think Evelyn stole it?"

"Mm, yes, I _thought_. But if she had it with her in her cell overnight, she'd be dead by now. Pity." When Juno raises an eyebrow at him, Nureyev has to chuckle. "She was one of only two leads. Other than the auctioneer and his personal assistant, no one else had been at the scene of the crime. The auctioneer's a ninety year old man, can't go nearer than a metre to the ring without expiring. His personal assistant hasn't left his side since, but I suppose he's the only possibility left."

Juno hums thoughtfully. "And what does your employer want with it?"

"Ah! Well, he's a botanist, collects unusual plant specimens, and pays quite a tidy sum for them."

"A botanist! Hah! So it'll stay safe in his collection? No poisoning anyone else?" Juno huffs in amusement despite himself. "Isn't that just like you? You haven't changed, Nureyev."

Nureyev turns away from the road, to watch him for one brief moment. Juno just barely manages to hold his gaze, but as usual, Nureyev's light eyes reveal only what he wants them to – in this case, nothing at all.

A car horns; Nureyev faces the road again. He bites his bottom lip, before asking, suddenly clipped, "And you, detective? What business had you with Evelyn Cho?"

"She was falsely detained without any evidence, like you said, but the wardens were too lazy to process the paperwork of a mere janitor, so she got stuck in there."

"And so your client hired you to save her daughter from the wrong side of the law… and then stole your car?"

" _Borrowed_ my car. Her mother did say she was sick. The girl looked close to collapsing."

Nureyev hums. "How _sorry_ for her," he says, sounding very un-sorry. By then, they're pulling up by the Steel Detective Agency. Nureyev takes one look at the building and thins his lips. He says in much the same tone, "Well Juno, it was, mm, _lovely_ seeing you again. But I really can't stay and chat. I've got another suspect to chase."

"The PA, right." But something catches, and nags at him. Juno frowns. "Wait, you said the ring's plant poison?"

"Yes?"

"Evelyn Cho tried to eat her clothes. And her papers. Any sort material she could get her hands on to line her stomach and absorb the poison. Shit."

"You think she swallowed the ring?"

"Her mother's a sinseh, that's a plant type person, right? She deals with herbs. The antidote was difficult to make a hundred years ago, but now…"

"A resourceful enough sinseh could replicate it! Well enough to keep her daughter alive for another night at least." Nureyev is already turning the car around. "Excellent work, Detective!"

 

* * *

 

"So. Argh!" Juno rubs the hand he smacked into the windshield gesturing to the abandoned building they're parked next to. "Wonderful view we have here."

"We're early." Nureyev tells him brightly.

"Cho and her daughter are probably already in there." Considering they're parked in front of Juno's abandoned car, "Cho and her daughter are _definitely_ already in there."

"And we don't want to be trapped in whatever room they're in when the buyers show up," Nureyev explains patiently. "Speaking of which. Are you armed beyond your blaster? Not even a – really, that won't do, Juno, d –" Nureyev stops. What was he going to say? Dear? Darling? Dickhead? Juno will never know, because Nureyev carries on blithely, "You need another weapon on you, if we're going to court danger like this. One with a shorter range, perhaps."

"There's nothing wrong with my blaster," Juno insists stubbornly.

"You whacked your hand against the windshield just a minute ago," Nureyev points out, but doesn't explicitly mention his depth perception has gone to shit, for which Juno is grateful – because he can damn well drag himself.

"I know, I _know_ I only have one eye left, and my depth perception's gone to shit. But it doesn't mean I'm useless."

"Of course not. It also doesn't mean you can't give yourself an easier time while you readjust, and try not to get killed in the process." Nureyev's voice dips. "No one's saying you're useless. We must nurse your injured self-esteem later."

"I can nurse my own self-esteem," Juno grumbles, which is a lie because the number one person who says Juno is useless, is Juno himself. "Look, we've been sitting here for a good fifteen minutes! I'm impatient."

"That you are." The quirk at the corner of Nureyev's mouth is fond.

"And I can still clobber someone over the head with it, can't I? Hey! Are you listening to me?!"

"I can't not; you're being very loud." Nureyev continues to rummage around in the glove compartment. "A knife isn't quite your style, I suppose? Right, it's _mine_ , stop making that face at me. How 'bout a taser? A bit old fashioned, sure, but it's quite the firecracker, just like you."

"Hey, hey, don't change the subject. We're not done taking the trip down memory lane." Although he begrudging takes the taser, Juno really doesn't want to talk about his incapacity right now. "I suppose you won't tell me what those chalk drawings you did on the sidewalk were for? Because it'd –" 

"Ruin the surprise!" Nureyev sounds delighted with himself.

If Juno is, for once, honest with himself, he finds himself… less grumpy than usual. Detective work is comfortable territory, and to traverse it with Nureyev again is. He hadn't let himself hope, had in fact thought he's crushed any possibility by himself, but now that it's happening, it's… nice. Still, for reputation's sake, Juno tries to frown. It ends up more of a pout. "Hmm. Somehow, _somehow_ , I feel like this has happened to us before."

"Yes, excellent, I did think I was being blatant, but one can never tell with you." Nureyev snorts, except it is an elegant sound for a snort. "Tragically, I've not got something as extravagant as the Utgard Express, but there shall be a bit of action later on with any luck."

"Luck," echoes Juno. "Good to know at least one of us is having fun."

"Do you deny that it _wasn't_ fun?"

"It… sure was something. Fun? Debateable. Did it get the old heart pumping? Definitely." Despite himself, Juno feels himself smile, and has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself.

Nureyev catches his chin, and presses his thumb to the imprint of his teeth. "So it wasn't all regrettable?"

And there's that thing again, where Nureyev shrinks the room or the car they're in, until Juno can't see anything but him, and he's not leaning in, he's not, but Nureyev is getting closer all the same. Juno swallows around a suddenly dry mouth. When he tries to wet his lips to speak, his tongue swipes over Nureyev's thumb. "We – uhh. We did save the world."

"Among other things," Nureyev concedes. He's close enough now that his words brush over Juno's cheeks. Just a slight change of angle, and –

There is a sharp rap on the windshield. They look up to see three goons sneering at them. The buyers, probably, there wasn't any other reason to be here at this time of the night. "Havin' fun?"

"Yes! Yes, we were!" Nureyev slings his arm around Juno's shoulders and pulls him close, playing the part of a couple caught making out in an alleyway, but ready to shove him out of range if necessary. "So if we could have a bit of privacy, I'd much appreciate it."

Juno glowers down at Nureyev's stupid fashionable trench coat, refusing to look up lest anyone see the red in his face. He yells, "You're interrupting! Go away!"

"That won't work, Detective Steel!" Ah, they recognise him. Well, shit. And they've got blasters too. And very big sticks. "Now. Get outta that car."

 

* * *

 

"The infamous PI, Juno Steel," growls the one with the biggest studded jacket, so she's probably the ringleader, "and you, you're new. Detective… Iron, was it?" 

"Detective _Iron_?" Juno forgets for a moment that they're facing down goons with blasters, arms up in surrender. His blaster hangs uselessly at his hip, the stupid taser in his hand sputtering skywards. He looks at Nureyev, who looks away with barely concealed laughter. " _Iron_? As in the metal that steel is made of? Iron?!"

"Just thought I'd borrow a bit of your expertise." Detective Iron still has the cheek to turn and aim a beguiling smile at him. "For example! Did you know steel has excellent tensile strength! And it does so well under stress! And don't get me started on _hardened_ steel –"

"Steel!" Juno interrupts, voice strangled partly in embarrassment, partly in a sort of, Nureyev's _flirting_ with _him_  again? And he's chosen to do it _here_? And _now_?! "Is! Very common! And Unexciting!!"

"Oi!" barks their assailant, waving her blaster in the air, "This ain't time for a science lesson!"

"Nonsense!" cries Nureyev, "There's always time for a bit of science. Here's another factoid for you – Steel is an excellent conductor of electricity!" He's still facing Juno, bright eyes darting down for a split second to the glinting, metallic looking 'chalk drawings', then staring at him to… oh. _Oh_.

Juno drops his still-sputtering taser.

Several things happen at once.

Nureyev tackles Juno to the ground, putting himself between him and the goons.

Sparks bang at his feet where the taser lands, and races along fuse towards the goons.

The air is filled with electrical crackling, and wild blaster shots that go high and miss. Then dull thumps of thick skulls against the pavement, then the smell of burnt flesh.

"I thought you weren't going to be extravagant," grumbles Juno, where he's pressed to the ground, face smushed to Nureyev's chest.

"I knew the taser would suit you!" Nureyev grins, smug. Once he's on his feet again, he brushes himself off, then extends his hand towards Juno.

Grunting and groaning, Juno takes his hand.

 

* * *

 

They make it two feet into the building before, Nureyev pulls him aside, presses him to the wall by the stairwell. There are loud thumping footsteps and sure enough, Cho comes bursting out the door, daughter dragged along behind her. 

With all his PI expertise, Juno sticks his foot out, and sends Cho sprawling across the lobby. Nureyev snaps an arm out and grabs Evelyn by the waist, who at the pressure at her abdomen, promptly throws up. Her vomit steams and hisses with acid.

Nureyev murmurs to Evelyn, "Do pardon my forwardness," then he wrenches up her blouse, and with no compunction whatsoever, sinks his knife into the mottled grey flesh in her side. She gurgles. With a flick of his wrist, the ring is spat out, and skitters across the floor in an arc of blood and other assorted bodily fluids.

Evelyn whines weakly; it is Cho who shrieks as though greatly pained. She leaps into action. Nureyev, an arm around Evelyn, raises his knife to defend himself, but Cho – dashes for the Ricininae Ring instead, just like Juno knew she would.

He's already aimed his blaster towards it. Even with his dead eye, in this cramped lobby, he can't miss. He fires the shot, and she crumples.

"How did you –"

"A mother who sends her daughter to swallow a poison ring in her place? Brings her here instead of a hospital?" Juno shrugs. "Easy guess."

"Right. Of course. Come over here, do me a favour. Grab the antidote off Cho – she must have some on her – then come here and hold this girl steady so I can stitch her up."

"Uhm," says Juno once he's gotten the vials, looking rather sick at the gore.

"Juno, quickly now, before she bleeds out."

"UHM," repeats Juno, but he edges closer and drops down next to them. It's just vomit, he tells himself, vomit and bile and stomach acid but none of it is blood. And her skin had deadened with the poison so it didn't bleed much at all. Ugh. Gingerly, he holds the unconscious girl steady as Nureyev whips out his first aid kid. "Huh. I don't recall you being so _considerate_ with lives. Yet you're doing all this for her."

"For _her_? Yes, sure, mmm. Hold this against her wound, keep a steady pressure, and – There you go, all done!" Nureyev discreetly wipes his hand on the last clean spot of her blouse. "Now! Juno, darling. I don't suppose you'd pass me the Ricininae Ring?"

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about, I don't have – yea okay, I took it." Juno shrugs. He had wanted a distraction from the gore, but he can't quite feel grateful for this. He bites his lip. "I called Inspector Khan when you were setting up your little science project. He's already on his way."

Right on cue, the wailing of police cars fill the air. By the time Khan crashes through the door, Nureyev is gone.

 

* * *

 

 

"Is it because I use analogue locks?" Juno demands, when he finally slumps into his apartment, and Nureyev is stretched luxuriously out on his couch. "I have like, four of them on the door alone, what the hell, Nureyev."

"Your antiquated ways are so very endearing, Juno. I had to learn them for myself." He pats the seat next to him, as if Juno were a guest in his own apartment. "Now come, be a dear and pass me the Ricininae Ring. I know you took it."

Juno shakes his head, a half smile playing at his lips despite himself. He half falls onto the couch, a loud whump. His old couch creaks and sinks under his weight, drawing them both to its centre, until their thighs are pressed together, but Juno is too tired to care. He leans his head back, pulling off his eyepatch and rubbing at the sore, sweat damp skin absently. 

Slender fingers encircle his wrist, gently tugging his hand away from face. They don't let go.

"That's new," says Nureyev as he uses his other hand to thumb the curve of Juno's eye socket, down to his cheek. "And rather fetching."

"Oh thank god. I'd worried," Juno jokes, except he had been worried. Instead, he squints at their hands. Nureyev doesn't seem to be letting go, so Juno has to fumble one handed for the Ricininae Ring's crown jewel. "It broke off when you cut it out. I gave the ring part to the cops, but I figured you only need this gross poison part. How'd you figure out I have the ring?"

Nureyev takes it, beaming, but sets it aside on the coffee table. "The same way I knew you wouldn't return that poison back into Hyperion City."

"Endless, accurate pessimism in humanity and its capacity to poison and maim itself, in greed and jealousy and all sorts of other fun stuff," guesses Juno.

"A good read on people," corrects Nureyev, "and specifically your awe inspiring scruples. Which brings me to this. Look at me Juno."

A pointed silence; Juno squirms but finally relents.

"I'd asked before, when we were trapped in that Martian tomb, I'd asked if Peter Nureyev was worth his baggage." Nureyev tilts his head. "You made your answer clear. But now, I'm not so sure." 

"Wait, _what_?" 

Nureyev cocks his head at him, frowning. "Do excuse me, I have to check – Your answer was no, in case that was what you were wondering about? You did leave me, after all."

"I – no! I mean, yes I did –" Juno winces "– leave you, but it's not, it wasn't a no, it was yes!"

"Beg pardon?"

"My answer! Would have been yes! Of course you're worth your – I wouldn't even call it baggage, I mean – it wasn't you. The problem wasn't you." The world is spinning. Juno shakes his head sharply. "I _told_ you, you're a gift–!" Does his voice quiver? Surely not, he's said this before, it had been freeing, a weight lifted from his stooped shoulders, so why did it now try to sink back into his throat, to choke him? "A gift, to the world, a fresh start, and a _glorious_ one, one... I don't deserve.

" _You_ don't deserve? Juno Steel, you-! Oh, if I had known that you were... If I had know that you felt that way about yourself – no, don't shirk from me. We don't have to talk about this now." Nureyev closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, expels it forcefully through clenched teeth. When he opens them again, they are surprisingly tender. It should be pity, Juno thinks,but it doesn't… quite feel like pity. Nureyev says, "Alright fine, say that were true –"

"It is."

"Say _I_ say that were true and weren't so rudely interrupted…" Nureyev pauses, and is satisfied when Juno pouts sullenly but silently at him. "What _do_ you think I deserve?"

"You? You deserve – better, you deserve –" it flashes unbidden before his eyes, Nureyev, so young and distraught, the despair in his eyes -  _Don't walk away from me!_  And Juno did the same, didn't he? He couldn't see then, how couldn't he had seen it then? "– someone who wouldn't walk away from you. You deserve to be happy."

"And if I found that happiness in you?"

"Okay, you got me, I walked right into that one." Juno's heart is in his throat, and the furious thrum of it threatens to choke him. He can barely breath, air rasping out of him. "But I still can't. I don't. I don't – I don't know what you want from me. I don't know what I have to give you."

"Oh, that's simple, darling, I have the answer to that. Do you still –" Abruptly, Nureyev's voice cracks, the confidence in it lost. He asks softly, "Do you think you could love me?"

And that's just. Not fair. Completely, utterly unfair. Juno laughs a small and strangled laugh. "As if I don't already." 

"There you go!" Nureyev laughs suddenly, and it reverberates between the two of them. "You have given me your love!" Again, more quietly, "I have your love."

"It's not – It's not _worth_ anything. I'm – I'm nobody, a has been –"

"Oh, Juno. You're everything to me. I gave you my name, didn't I? No one else knows it. No one else knows me… like this." Nureyev kisses Juno then, who startles and hiccups against his mouth. He laughs again. "You've given me your love, so let me give you mine in return."

And Juno, right here and now, heart racing, breath stuttering, can't quite think of a reason, not a single one that Nureyev will bat away with that careless, captivating way of his. He leans in… right past Nureyev's mouth, head thudding against Nureyev's shoulder instead.

"Juno?"

Juno tries to joke, "Hey, I'm finally swooning into your arms," but his apartment is growing dark, and he passes out instead.

 

* * *

 

Juno wakes up in his apartment, at noon on a Tuesday, with a killer headache. Hyperion city bustles just beyond his blinds in familiar crescendo, wayward cursing, blaster shots ringing in the distance. He's had this dream before. With Nureyev, ephemeral Peter Nureyev, a warm, steady anchor by his side. If he keeps his eyes closed, then maybe this time it'd… but, no. Juno hasn't ever been a dreamer. More of a nightmarer. With a sleep husky groan, he opens his eyes.

There is a dark, hulking shape in bed next to him, two smudges of white staring at him, glinting in the darkness. He yells, shoves away from it, and subsequently falls off the bed. The figure leans towards him, hand reaching, and Juno groped for a weapon, fingers grazing the second blaster he kept under the night stand. Then, a white line split across the figure's face, teeth, a familiar smile – Juno groans. Pulls his hand away from the nightstand so he can rub at his eyes. One eye. The not-eye throbs under the heel of his palm.

Before any wallowing could happen, however, a voice came floating through the darkness. "Darling, are you quite alright?" The same voice he had just been dreaming about, before he was so rudely awakened.

"Yea, just great, I always wake up like this, get the blood pumping in the morning." Sighing, he reaches for the lamp on the night stand, and clicks it on. Sure enough, Nureyev sat swaddled in his comforter, cross legged, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. "What are you even doing? Wait, why are we in bed?!" He looks down and finds himself in a pair of his old sweatpants and nothing else. Nureyev is also less dressed than last night, stripped down to his boxers and undershorts; Juno raises an eyebrow at him, suspicious.

"Juno, love, you passed out from second hand exposure to the Rininae Ring. You're lucky I stole Cho's extra vials of antidote. And I really couldn't leave you in case you vomited and choked on it." Nureyev reaches out to him again. "Though I see the worst has passed, if you're that energetic."

"Huh." His limbs protest, but Juno manages to crawl back into his bed. It must be the aftereffects of the poison that Juno stays still as Nureyev fusses over him, bundling him up in the comforter and feeling his sweaty forehead. Heck, maybe he even leans into his touch.

Then Nureyev says, "So about last night," and Juno rears back.

"Oof, you know what, I'm all gross and sticky, best I go take a shower, you know what they say, hygiene is the cornerstone of well being –"

Suddenly the blanket is wrapped around Juno instead, Nureyev pinning it down around him. "Juno –"

"So hey anyway uhh–" Juno thrashes around a bit, but Nureyev's lithe frame is unexpectedly strong "– why'd you retire Rex Glass?"

"He'd gotten waylaid by a crush, and Dark Matters really doesn't take fraternising with assignments too nicely. They had to elope." Nureyev bats his lashes at him. Then he adds pointedly, "Also, he _did_ get arrested."

Juno cringes, and damnit, he can't squirm free."Did you retire Duke Rose too?"

"Oh no," says Nureyev, leaning all his weight onto him. "Duke Rose is still out there, gallivanting across the galaxy with his dear Dahlia Rose."

"Huh. Sounds nice." And quite impossible for Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev. He doesn't know any of Nureyev's other identities – Detective Iron doesn't count, Detective Iron was Nureyev being petty and they both know it, maybe Juno can get Nureyev to hand over his trench coat in repentance, it was sure to smell of his cologne, not that Juno would _do_ anything with it  – something occurs to Juno. "Why do all your characters smell the same?"

"There was this one fellow who seemed rather charmed by it, when we were trapped in a mansion's vents, hmm, what was his name again?"

Again, Juno grimaces, and. And that's all he's got. The press of Nureyev against him is making it hard to think. Juno resorts to drawing out a long and loud, "uuhhhhhhhhhh," until Nureyev intercedes.

" _Juno_." Nureyev's tone is firm, as are his arms around the blanket burrito Juno is trapped in, so finally the weary detective goes slack against him. "Good detective."

A contemplative silence. Nureyev rests his chin atop Juno's sulking head. Finally, sounding more contemplative than anything else, he says, "You hurt me, Juno."

"I know. I _know_ that. I'm. I'm sorry," Juno offers feebly.

"And I know now that you are." He touches Juno's jaw with one hand. The other burrows under the blanket to graze against his side. Juno shudders. "That's why I'd like if we could give -  _us_ a second shot."

A second shot. A do over. Juno can barely hear himself over the rush of blood in his ears, but he says anyway, "I still can't go with you. I shouldn't have left without a word, but. I can't go with you."

"And if you'd told me that, I... would've left Mars anyway," Nureyev admits softly. Despite this, Nureyev pulls him closer, chest pressed to his back. When he sighs, Juno feels it ghost against his neck. "I'm sorry. No, hear me out. Love isn't an ultimatum, and I shouldn't have made you decide between leaving with me, or nothing."

Of all the ways Juno imagined this conversation happening, this doesn't come close to any of them. Trust Nureyev to find blame when it should be entirely Juno's. He wants to protest, but he can't seem to find the words. And Nureyev is still speaking in that low, rueful tone.   

"I didn't understand you. I didn't understand what Hyperion City meant to you. I still don't; I don't know what having a place to return to feels like, I don't know what a home is, but I think I might begin to understand. Just a little bit. Home doesn't have to be a place, does it? Oh _Juno_ , I ached without you. I want to see us through. I at least want to try."

"You. You'd want to try?" Juno knows how incredulous he sounds, but he cannot help it. "For _me_?"

"And _with_ you. It'd be a compromise. I won't stay on Mars. But if you'd still have me, I will come back. Whenever a mission takes me nearby, or when I have time in between. Or, I'll send messages. I don't have the solution, but I think we deserve a proper shot, don't you?"

Nureyev has pushed his face into Juno's gross hair, damp with the sweat from last night, from his poisoning, sooty from the fight with the goons. All of Juno is gross, and yet Nureyev is pressed up against him without a care _He must really feel…_ something _for me_ , Juno realises a bit dazedly. He licks his lips. He breathes carefully. He stares at the ceiling and tells it, "I'm going to take that shower after all." Pats Nureyev's arm, because he's gone deathly still behind him. "Do you want to join me?"

Nureyev laughs, a relieved, ridiculously thing. "You always remember the most important things." He starts to move, a slow drag against each other. And then he's standing in front of Juno, who hasn't let go of his hand, who can only stare up at him – sly smile, bright eyes, the single point of light in Juno's entire apartment. "Come on. Shall we?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> i realise they still dont Actually have the Deep Talk they are ideally supposed to but this feels more doable for these two goobers… and ACTUALLY i don't think the heavy moment was when juno tries to blow himself up w miasma… i mean it was bad but like. oh my god. talk to me abt how juno was 'proven right' abt humanity not being able to read each others mind bc of inherent badness. the martians could, and they killed themselves. besides this strange disappointment tht he didn't die, tht was wht he went on about right? the martian's suicide oh my gOD why didnt i write abt this instead lies down. im over [here](http://izazaa.tumblr.com) pls come lie with me


End file.
